Friday is free-verse day (and apparently less-than-healthy breakfast day)!
Today’s poem was inspired by the gathering of hungry cats about my feet, in a circular radius that grows progressively smaller! A gathering of hungry adopted cats: A rescued begling?
The cats were inspired by eerie torturous sounds of sausage links writhing in The Frying Pan of Torture.
And the smell… oh the smell… It inspired us all. Don’t try any of this at home!
(Don’t tell NaPoWriMo, but I’m having way too much fun! Poetry should be serious work!)
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Screams of Sausage, Howls of Cats
Thin-skinned membranes heat swell to burst
Pierced sausage screams pin back feline ears
Second-death link-dancing in pan of happy grease
Cats rescued never heard sausage sounds before
Howls yowls drools in reply to pork sizzle-hiss-spits
Gathering cats look at me then pan as if asking
I am next?
Alpha speaks through stares.
If large enough we would serve and eat you Alpha eyes say.
Smart corrects servants serve us we the served.
Wise calculates reduced circular area and radius-shortened all center around me.
I stare at pan then them. Feed me first.
They stare at me then pan. Feed me first.
Tact speaks. If large enough we would eat. You?
Wild speaks from feral undomesticated places where no man royals.
Priss speaks Wild speak for yourself pretend-domestication is lost art.
Wise says divide pi by 2 and circle around two human feet too close for discomfort.
I stare at pan then them. Serve us.
I am stared then pan. Serve us.
Everybody shut up somebody serve and eat me sausage screams.
If you were smaller we would all eat all of you I think all they think.
I think I agree I am here but a while.
I stare at plate then them. Mere servant?
They stare at me then plates. Mere servant.
Bring us larger portions larger portion.
But who sill serve if I am served?
Wise speaks divide by zero we undefine.
Self-serving I jump to frying pan from fryer.
Thin-skinned heated I swell to burst.
Cats-sounds of howls yowls mask my domesticated screams.
Breakfast yummed complete
Rescued cleanings purs and yawns
Beglings wait for lunch…
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